


Paris, 1962

by 30secondfics



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 12:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30secondfics/pseuds/30secondfics
Summary: Delia got her birth certificate from her mum and she’s finally got herself a passport. Now, spring has sprung and Patsy is taking her to Paris! Their little holiday soon leads to a series of first time experiences as a couple.





	Paris, 1962

~ Poplar 1962 ~

Patsy Mount eyed her opened suitcase and narrowed her eyes as she went through her mental checklist. Surely, she had enough clothes for the next four days, but she had a feeling, in the pit of her stomach, that she was forgetting something important.

“Do you have enough check shirts?” Trixie teased.

“These are my favourite clothes,” Patsy defended. “I just feel like I’m forgetting something,” she confessed.

Trixie glanced over her roommate’s shoulder and took a good look at the contents of the suitcase.

“I know…” she walked over to her dresser and began rummaging through her belongings.

“I don’t think I’m forgetting one of your lipsticks,” Patsy chuckled.

“Here…” Trixie smirked and handed her roommate a small box. “There’s twelve in there so there should be plenty to share with Delia, unless you feel that you will need all of them for yourself,” she added with a light giggle.

“Trixie!” Patsy laughed out loud as she held the box of condoms in her hand, “I won’t need these.”

“How ever could you know that now?” Trixie countered, “The new decade is ‘the screaming 60s’ for a reason. You’ll never know who you might run into and when you might have to seize the moment!”

Patsy snorted and tucked the box into a compartment of her suitcase. She couldn’t wait to see the smirk on Delia’s face when she tells her what had just happened.

“If you meet a handsome French man… you’ll thank me later,” Trixie added.

“Well, thank you for this generous gift,” Patsy said with an appreciative smile. “Any requests from Paris?”

“Just the stories you’ll _have to_  tell me when you get back.” Trixie smiled, “Though I would never say no to a box of callisons.”

Patsy smiled and locked the latches on her suitcase.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Across the convent, Delia packed her suitcase alone. She didn’t mind it, though; she enjoyed having a private room, after all. So she silently counted how much of each garment she had packed, and ensured she had enough of everything for their journey ahead.

“Knock, knock...” Patsy called from the doorframe.

It made Delia laugh internally that Patsy only knocked during the daytime, as to seem like they had boundaries to any listening ears. Otherwise, Patsy was quite good at sneaking into the room when she wanted to come in undetected.

“I’m all packed,” Patsy lifted her suitcase.

“Me too…” Delia closed her baggage and gave her lover a big, excited, smile. “I think I’ve packed everything I need.”

“I’ve packed a lot more than _I_ need,” Patsy rolled her eyes and chuckled. She glanced up and down the hallway to see if any of the nuns were wandering about. “I even have a box of barrier contraceptives, courtesy of Trixie,” she added quietly.

“Oh, Pats!” Delia cracked into a fit of giggles.

“Nurse Busby,” Patsy pretended to be firm about the matter, “A healthy sex life is an important part of women’s health.”

“I agree, Nurse Mount,” Delia took her suitcase and stood to her full height before approaching her girlfriend at the door frame. “I’d love to have a healthy sex life someday soon,” she whispered, very suggestively.

Patsy’s jaw dropped in shock, and she blinked a few times as she watched Delia walk down the hallway with her suitcase in hand. She was so dumbfounded, it took her a moment to remember that  she had to follow her to the cab waiting for them downstairs.

~ Paris, 1962 ~

It took a whole day to get to their destination. A day full of laughter and stories, and a snooze or two in between. It took a cab, a bus, a boat, and yet a couple more buses to get them from Poplar to Paris. But as they drove into the city, the sight of the Eiffel Tower at night made it worth the journey.

“It’s… breathtaking,” Delia breathed out, her breath briefly fogging the glass window of the city bus.

“We’ll climb it tomorrow,” Patsy promised in a quiet whisper into her lover’s ear.

000

The Hotel du Lys was a seventeenth century inn that was nowhere near luxurious, but it was a roof over their heads and a warm bed. Luckily, Patsy was able to get them a room with two single beds. It was an upgrade from the two separate rooms they were prepared to book, which was more appropriate for two travelling women of their age.

“The only downside is you two will have to share a bathroom,” the gentleman at the front desk warned.

“We live in a convent with nuns and nurses, and one bathroom. I think we’ll manage,” Delia commented with a smirk.

“Breakfast is served from seven to ten,” he ignored the comment and gave Patsy the bronze key to their room.

“Thank you,” Patsy took the key. Her face was stern as she looked at the man, but it quickly transformed into a big smile as she turned towards Delia and headed towards their room, an excited skip added to each step she took. And when they opened the door, they saw exactly what the man had described: an old room with two beds and a shared nightstand. Except, he didn’t mention that the wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and parts of the carpet had been worn down to the base.

“At least you don’t have to tiptoe around Trixie to slip into my bed,” Delia said, trying to be positive.

“It’s a bit short of five stars,” Patsy sighed. “But at least it has a view…” she walked towards the window and took a peek behind the curtain.

Delia glanced over her lover’s shoulder and winced when she saw the old apartment building that comprised their view.

“If we’re lucky, we might see a naked grandpa...” Delia commented.

Patsy groaned with distaste, “I wish we saved more money for a hotel with a nicer view.”

“Oh, I like it,” Delia reassured. “Plus, I have the best view right here…” she took Patsy by the elbow, gently turned her around, and gazed up at her bright blue eyes.

Patsy playfully bat her eyes and then chuckled. “Well, you can watch me go through my night routine because I’m just about ready to fall asleep on one of those beds.”

Delia smiled.

“I’ll join you.”

000

They did a lot of walking the next morning after breakfast. The walk from their hotel to the city’s centre nearly took an hour, but they never grew tired in each other’s company. Truth be told, they enjoyed the time together more than anything. The sights they saw around the city were simply an added bonus.

Patsy was the navigator, map always in hand, and Delia was the explorer, who seemed to let her heart decide where to go and her feet would follow. It made Patsy laugh every time Delia saw something that sparked her interest, since she would have to stuff the map back into her tote bag and run after her anyways.

The day was magical, almost like a dream come true. It was just the two of them, in a city full of strangers. It seemed like a honeymoon, except not. Even at their happiest moments, Patsy and Delia kept their distance and showed as much affection as what was socially acceptable for two women to show in public.

When they reached the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower, Delia wished she could kiss Patsy right then and there... just like the other couples who had seized the moment at the centre of the city of love and romance. One man even got on one knee and proposed to his woman at the top of the tower, and Patsy and Delia looked on and clapped their hands with the crowd when she said yes.

Their current situation simultaneously filled Delia with joy and saddened her a bit.

But she wasn’t going to let thoughts ruin their holiday. So they explored, they laughed, and they loved, despite the platonic front they were forced to put up.

As they walked away from the tower, Patsy spotted a photographer taking pictures of tourists. She approached him with purpose, and after brief conversation, she paid him to take their photo in front of the tower, despite Delia’s protest about the cost.

“A little closer together to your amie, mademoiselle…” the man said with a strong French accent. He motioned with his hand from behind the camera, urging Patsy to take a step to the side.

Patsy kept a friendly distance from Delia, as she always did in public, but she couldn’t help but comply with the photographer’s request. It was for the photo, after all.

“Say Paris!” he sang.

Patsy and Delia smiled as they said the word, their elbows touching and the large tower standing proudly behind them.

“Enjoy your souvenir,” he said as the picture emerged from his large camera. He took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote “Paris, 1962” on the back of the photo paper.

“Merci,” Patsy took the picture and inspected it, Delia looking on as well.

“Oh,” Delia’s smile grew bigger, “Brilliant.”

“We’ll have to find a frame for it at home,” Patsy mentioned.

“I’m sure Sister Monica Joan will have a spare in her collection of trinkets,” Delia commented.

“Well then…” Patsy tucked the photo in her tote bag and pulled the map out, “Where to now, my dear?”

“Mmm...” Delia glanced around them. “That way!” she pointed.

Patsy smiled and offered her elbow for Delia to hold on to, now a little more comfortable with touching in public.

“You lead the way, mademoiselle!”

They had lunch at a little cafe with a water fountain. They sat outside, the mild spring weather perfectly paired with their croissants and jams. And after their meal, they proceeded to wander the busy streets of Paris.

“Look at that little bookshop,” Delia pointed at the old structure, the glass window displayed the shelves and shelves of leather-bound books.

“Shall we go in?” Patsy asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Just to look,” Delia blushed and tugged her lover across the street and into the store.

A small bell rang as they walked in, and the store owner greeted them with a friendly “Salut!” She asked them if they were looking for anything in particular, in French, and Delia apologized and informed the woman that their French was rusty after many years of not speaking it.

“If you need anything, just ask,” the store owner said in English, though her accent was very much French.

Patsy and Delia gave her a thankful smile and began to inspect the shelves of books around them. They loved books. They looked at French books, and German books, and Spanish ones too, even if they were lacking practice in those language departments. They appreciated the stories the books shared in the authors’ native tongues.

“Look at this one…” Patsy said after she read the summary, “Yet another strong female protagonist.”

“Those are my favourite,” Delia admitted as she took the book Patsy handed to her.

“Do you like books about women?” the store owner asked, the bookshop being small enough to hear even the softest page turn within it.

Delia didn’t know how to answer.

“Stories about anyone I can relate to, really…” she reassured, not wanting the stranger to think she adored women more than what was considered normal.

“You two are… roommates?” the owner asked.

“Somewhat… we live in a convent…” Patsy answered, now on guard and protective about her relationship with Delia.

“I think you will enjoy the collection on the back shelf,” the owner suggested. “More books about women… all kinds of women. Some of them are written in English.”

Patsy and Delia looked at each other, questioningly, and slightly fearful that they had somehow been discovered, despite all efforts to go undetected.

“My—-roommate—-and I enjoy reading them,” the owner added.

The bell above the door suddenly rang again and a woman in trousers and a black leather jacket entered the small shop. Her hair was short like Trixie’s but her persona was strong, much more like Nurse Crane.

“Ah, ma Chéri, je viens portant des cadeaux.”

The store owner smiled as her roommate came into her store---as if on cue---delivering her late lunch, as she did on most days.

“Mon amour, don’t be so loud, we have customers…” the owner laughed and motioned towards the two women in the shop.

The roommate turned towards Patsy and Delia and blushed.

“Désolée, mademoiselles, the shop is not always this busy.”

Patsy and Delia glanced at each other and smiled when they put the two pieces, or rather, the two women, together.

“This is my notorious roommate,” the owner introduced, informally.

“Enchantée,” the woman tipped her head and then turned back towards the store owner to flirt with her in French.

“They’re like us,” Delia whispered.

“Except louder,” Patsy whispered back.

“No,” Delia giggled, “I think they’re just French.”

Patsy smirked and felt comfortable enough to take Delia’s hand and lead her to the bookshelf the store owner was talking about. Delia, on the other hand, enjoyed watching Patsy, who was otherwise quite reserved in public, break their unwritten rules about touching, since it felt safe to do so.

They glanced at the books and, indeed, they were about women, strong women, vulnerable women, and even controversial women. Patsy read another summary of a book that piqued her interest, and she gave it to Delia to read.

“What do you think?” Patsy asked, “Should we buy it?”

“I think...” Delia sighed when she saw the price on the inside cover of the novel, “You need to stop spending like Marie Antoinette.”

Patsy’s smile faded, but she knew her lover was right. She had saved up for their trip, but it would be wise not to spend it all at once. Collectively, they had already spent a day’s wages on food and treats, and their photo by the Eiffel Tower, after all.

“You can read it here for barely a fraction of the price,” the store owner mentioned.

“Really?” Patsy asked in surprise.

“Many women do it,” the owner’s roommate shared.

“I noticed they were always curious but never buying...” the owner explained, “I think many of them would rather not have to explain why the book is in their possession… especially to their husbands.”

Delia glanced at Patsy and then back at the store owner.

“We’ll do that, then!” Delia agreed.

“Are you sure?” Patsy’s smile returned to her lips.

“I think that’s a fair compromise,” Delia gave her lover’s arm a squeeze and then approached the store owner to pay. The novel was short enough to read in one seating, after all.

Patsy dropped her tote bag onto the floor and excitedly sat down. She cracked the book open and Delia joined her shortly after. As they read the novel together, there on the dusty shop floor, they immersed themselves into a world they could only dream about. They flipped through the pages eagerly and read about two women. In love. Just like them.

000

The trip was full of firsts. Their first photo. Their first serving of frog legs.

“Do you remember the first time you held my hand?” Delia asked as she and Patsy rested on the bed, their feet exhausted after a long day of walking around the city. Patsy was holding her hand between them, and the gesture brought back one of Delia’s favourite memories.

“How could I forget?” Patsy breathed out.

“Did you think, then, that we would ever go on holiday like this?” Delia asked, a small smile forming on her face. She was so, so, incredibly happy after the day they just had in Paris.

“I didn’t think we could be anything more than friends, let alone share a bed, in a hotel, in the city of love,” Patsy sighed in relief.

Delia smiled and turned to her side to rest her head on Patsy’s chest.

“I was so scared,” Patsy added, after some time.

“Hmm?” Delia gazed up at her lover, soaking in the moment so much she forgot what they were talking about.

“The first time I held your hand...” Patsy recalled, “We were walking back to the nurse’s home and it was cold. I had lost my mitts… I think they fell out of my coat pockets.”

“I think you lost them on purpose,” Delia chuckled.

“If I knew you would hold my hands, I would have lost them sooner,” Patsy laughed along.

Delia smiled and tightened her hold on Patsy’s hand.

“I was really nervous.” Patsy added, “I told you I was shivering from the cold, but I think I was more so shivering from the nerves. I already had… feelings, for you.”

“I knew,” Delia admitted.

“You knew?” Patsy asked in surprise, “Then and there, you knew?”

Delia propped her head up and gazed down at her lover. “You came to me first when you had good days, and you told me first when you had bad ones. I looked forward to seeing you at the end of my day, just so I could hear about yours… and I felt that you felt the same way about me too.”

Patsy smiled and remembered the countless times she came running to Delia with news to share.

“It made my heart flutter every time you knocked at my door at the nurse’s home,” Delia shared.

“Eventually I stopped knocking...” Patsy realized.

“You did,” Delia agreed, “Because I would already be waiting at the door for you.”

Patsy smiled and pressed a soft kiss on her lover’s lips.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Delia asked.

“You’re feeling nostalgic tonight...” Patsy tucked a lock of dark hair behind her lover’s ear.

“I’m just…” Delia sighed, “I guess I am,” she admitted with a shy laugh.

“Yes, I remember our first kiss,” Patsy continued the conversation her lover so obviously wanted to have. “There was a thunderstorm, so it was also the first night I slept in your bed. You were showing me a new card game and well… you won the game and I won a kiss from the prettiest woman in London Town.”

“Those are some of my favourite memories…” Delia smiled, “I’m glad I remember them now.”

“I’m glad you remember them too,” Patsy breathed out, forever grateful that Delia’s memories returned after the accident.

“Pats…” Delia started to speak as if she wanted to say something important, but she paused, unsure of how to say what she wanted to say.

“What is it, my love?” Patsy encouraged.

“I…” Delia hesitated again.

“You can tell me, Deels. What is it?”

“I want to let you know that I’m ready to… do more than kiss. When you are ready too, of course.”

“Delia,” Patsy couldn’t help but smile.

“I always thought I’d wait until I was married...” Delia confessed, “but it seems so traditional… and we’re far from traditional.”

Patsy cupped her lover’s cheek and swiped her thumb across her bottom lip. Without another word, she closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together. They kissed, like they always did, and after the magical time that they had that day, Patsy felt that she too also wanted to end the day with more than kissing.

“I’m going to freshen up,” Delia finally said. She desperately needed a good shower after all the walking they did that day. “You can join me, if you’d like.”

Patsy gave her lover a small smile and thought for a moment.

“I think it would be faster if you went first. I won’t be long, after you.”

Delia smiled and stole another kiss before retreating to the bathroom. Patsy was left laying in bed, and her mind began to  race like a train. She now had a heavy feeling in her stomach, and she knew it wasn’t from all the frogs legs they ate at supper. In fact, Patsy knew she was excited and a little nervous about what was about to happen. She had thought about this moment many times before, and the possibilities were as limited as her experience. The ambiguity of _how_  they would make love made her nervous, but she knew—or so she hoped—that it would simply happen as naturally as she and Delia fell in love.

“Your turn, Pats…” Delia emerged from the bathroom. Clad in nothing but her bathrobe, she approached the opposite bed, which naturally turned into a home for their suitcases. Without a second thought, she began to pick out a pair of pyjamas to wear for the night—-until Patsy’s voice stopped her.

“Don’t get dressed quite yet,” Patsy ordered, suggestively.

Delia eyed her lover and released the garments in her hands, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Wait for me. I won’t be long,” Patsy promised and stood to utilize the bathroom. She went through her night routine in record time, and when she re-emerged into their room, Delia was sitting at the foot of the bed, patiently waiting for her.

Patsy smiled and approached her lover, standing at her full height, she cupped Delia’s cheek and lowered her head to give her a kiss. Delia’s hands naturally found their way to Patsy’s hips, and Patsy placed her hands over them. She instinctively guided Delia’s hands to the knot of her robe, and then helped her untie it.

Delia felt her heart begin to race in her chest as she undressed her lover. She felt Patsy’s hands give her a squeeze, and she opened her eyes in time to see the front of Patsy’s robe hang loose and undone.

Patsy took it upon herself to slip the garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, her hands forming nervous fists at her sides.

“Oh Pats…” Delia breathed out in awe. It was the first time she had seen Patsy completely unclothed, and she almost felt obliged to keep her eyes above her neck.

“You’re allowed to look,” Patsy smirked when she noticed her lover struggling to keep her eyes on hers. “Actually, I prefer if you did,” she added. She couldn’t help the nervousness that surged through her veins, being so naked for the first time in front of a lover, but she also felt safe and very much loved in Delia’s presence.

Delia subconsciously licked her lips and eyed Patsy’s figure. Her skin was flawed—-imperfect—-with stretch marks and blemishes that had healed over time. Yet, that’s what Delia found most beautiful. Patsy was human, and her body told a story of the pain and growth she has had to overcome.

“You’re gorgeous, Pats…” Delia breathed out.

“You’re not bad, yourself…” Patsy smiled and placed her hands on Delia’s shoulders before carefully, but firmly, pushing her back against the mattress.

“Now up onto your pillow, Busby,” she ordered.

Delia chuckled and crawled back, using her heels and elbows, so her head could rest against the pillow. Patsy crawled on top of her and instinctively straddled her hips, her patch of hairs only inches from Delia’s.

“Do you mind if I undo this?” Patsy traced her fingers down the collar of Delia’s robe.

“Actually, I prefer if you did,” Delia quoted her lover.

Patsy smiled and untied the robe before letting it hang open, the cloth slipping from Delia’s sides and onto the bed. Patsy’s gaze met Delia’s body, and she let her eyes linger on the beauty beneath her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Patsy released a breath and took it upon herself to caress her lover’s skin.

Delia’s breathing hitched, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips when goosebumps, and a shiver, surged through her body.

“Are you ticklish?” Patsy smiled, unaware if her lover was or not. She had never touched Delia like this, after all.

“No,” Delia admitted, “Your hands feel good.”

Patsy smiled and cupped her lover’s breasts before swiping her thumb across her nipples a few times.

“Oh,” Delia gasped, her nipples now hardening between Patsy’s fingers.

“I want to touch you...” Patsy muttered in a low voice.

Delia gulped the dry lump in her throat. She knew she was ready for this moment, the moment she and Patsy finally became intimate, but she felt another surge of excitement accompany the knowledge that it was now really going to happen.

“Touch me,” she encouraged her lover.

Patsy repositioned herself on top of her lover, straddling one of Delia’s thighs between her own. She traced her index finger up and down the path of Delia’s slit, and then dipped it into her folds in search of Delia’s golden spot. Except, she was met with more flesh, which was normal, but rather inconvenient as she continued her search.

“I’m afraid I’ll need some assistance...” Patsy admitted defeat after a moment, an embarrassed redness in her cheeks.

Delia smiled and guided her partner’s fingers to where she needed her most.

“Oh…” Patsy raised her eyebrows in surprise when her fingertips came in contact with the soft bud beneath Delia’s folds.

“Only recently discovered it myself,” Delia admitted, hinting that she had already explored, or even play with, her lower anatomy.

Patsy giggled and began to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. Her motions made Delia moan, and it encouraged her to keep going.

“Oh Pats…” Delia’s hips lifted from the bed, momentarily, and then collapsed before thrusting into Patsy’s hand. Over and over again. In fact, she wasn’t aware of her movements---that she was thrusting herself at her lover---but Patsy was making her feel really good and her body craved more.

Patsy couldn’t fathom how good it felt to finally be intimate. It satisfied her heart and her senses, and she couldn’t wait to satisfy the craving she had had for a while: to taste Delia. So she took it upon herself to change position and do what she wanted to to her lover.

“Where are you going?” Delia asked softly, slightly confused as to Patsy’s sudden change in position.

“I want to try something,” Patsy smiled and made her way down to the space between Delia’s thighs. She planted her elbows on the mattress, to support her weight, and used her thumbs to part her lover’s folds.

Delia sucked in a sharp breath of air and watched her lover with curious eyes.

“Stop me if you don’t like it,” Patsy told her lover before dipping her head and using her tongue to rub the soft bud beneath it.

“PATS…” Delia’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and her chin tilted towards the heavens. Never had she felt such an intense, pleasurable, sensation before. Patsy’s mouth was wet, and warm, and her tongue felt amazing as it lapped against her womanhood.

Patsy glanced up at her lover and smiled, internally, from the sight of Delia in a daze. She decided to use the tip of her tongue to continuously circle the hardening bud she was toying with, and Delia moaned again---except, this time, a small squirt of fluid met Patsy’s chin.

“Oh God,” Delia whimpered, her thighs beginning to quake.

Patsy lifted her mouth from her lover’s center and swiftly entered her with her middle finger.

Delia groaned and furrowed her brows, slightly caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. But she moaned again when Patsy began moving in and out of her, making her feel really bloody good.

“Do the… again,” she managed to speak between laboured breaths.

Luckily, Patsy knew what her lover wanted, despite Delia’s current inability to form a complete sentence. So she lowered her head again and flicked her tongue in time with her thrusts. It absolutely blew Delia’s mind, and with quickening flicks and stronger thrusts, Patsy brought her lover to a full blown orgasm.

“PATS…” Delia crunched forward, eyes shut tight and hands gripping onto the bed sheets, causing them to tent. Her thighs closed in around Patsy’s head, momentarily, and she felt her opening pulsate around Patsy’s finger over and over and over again. “Oh Pats…” she sighed as she collapsed against the mattress. It took her a minute to come back to her senses, and when she realized what had just happened, she found herself in a fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Patsy asked, sitting up and wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

“I didn’t know they could be so… violent,” Delia chuckled.

“Orgasms?” Patsy asked with a smirk.

“I’ve never… that hard,” Delia somewhat elaborated.

“I guess like most activities, it helps to have a team member assisting,” Patsy replied, grinning mischievously.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Delia asked with a light laugh. She thought of herself as an educated woman, but even with years of nursing school and sexual education, she lacked knowledge beyond heterosexual procreation.

“I overheard a bloke at a pub once who bragged to his mates about a woman who performed—-acts—-on him… with her mouth,” Patsy admitted. “I guess I thought if it could be done on a man, it could be done on a woman too.”

“That should be on a suffragette poster,” Delia suggested with a smirk. “If it is done on men, it should be done on women! Equal orgasms for all!” she lifted her right fist to show her support.

“I love you,” Patsy laughed and moved in to kiss her lover, “You silly old thing.”

Delia smiled and kissed her lover again. She swiftly flipped their position, as she was strong enough to shift Patsy’s weight so she was now the one on top of the taller woman. She then took her turn in kissing Patsy’s skin, over and over again. She also tangled her fingers in Patsy’s red locks, appreciating the feeling of the soft hair without all the added lacquer.

“Deels…” Patsy smiled when her lover attacked her neck with kisses.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Delia said between kisses, showering her lover with all the love she felt in her heart.

“I love you too,” Patsy chuckled. Delia could stop her heart and kill her with how adorable she was being.

Delia smiled and planted one last kiss on Patsy’s nose.

“Can I try to do that---what you did to me---to you?” she asked.

“Do you really have to ask?” Patsy countered.

“Will you tell me if I’m doing it wrong?” Delia asked, her subconscious prompting her to lick her lips. She was now excited to take her turn in pleasing her lover.

“I will,” Patsy promised. She watched her lover position herself between her thighs, and much like she had done earlier, Delia parted her folds and took her into her mouth.

Delia tried to be as gentle as she could. She lapped her tongue up and down her lover’s slit, and recalled how good it felt when Patsy’s tongue swirled circles around her. So she did just that.

“Oh…” Patsy sucked in a breath of air, and then bit her bottom lip between her teeth. Surely, she suspected it would feel good, from how Delia reacted earlier, but she didn’t think it would feel as good as it felt now.

“Oh, Deels…” she brought her forearm to her mouth and bit the soft skin between her teeth. She felt that her lips could no longer contain the moans that were escaping her mouth, and she felt that she was going to scream. Even if they had a lot more privacy in the old hotel room, she knew the walls would not be able to contain the roar she felt like letting out. The last thing she wanted was to draw unwanted attention.

“Pats?” Delia stopped, for a moment, when she noticed her lover gritting her teeth. She thought that, despite her best efforts, she was poorly pleasing her lover and causing Patsy some sort of discomfort.

Patsy unclenched her teeth and opened her eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked softly.

Delia realized Patsy was only muffling her moans, and she cracked a small proud smile. It pleased her that Patsy was actually struggling to contain herself, and it encouraged Delia to please her some more.

“Delia Busby,” Patsy tilted her head back when her lover’s tongue began circling her again. Her vocal chords began to vibrate louder and louder, and she bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep her from moaning too loud. Except, when Delia penetrated her with her fingers, Patsy could not contain the roar that escaped her lips.

“Shhh,” Delia smirked against her lover’s mound.

“I can’t… help it,” Patsy huffed. She brought her forearm back to her lips and bit the flesh as her orgasm rippled through her body and forced the air out of her lungs. “HMMM,” Patsy muffled her scream with her forearm and twitched a couple of times as Delia continued to thrust in and out of her. She had never had an orgasm, or even the chance to touch herself like Delia had, since she didn’t have the luxury of a private bedroom like she did. So she didn’t know she would feel like screaming so hard.

“Mercy...” she blurted out when Delia continued thrusting in her now extra sensitive post-orgasm state.

Delia blushed and carefully withdrew her fingers from her lover’s body. A quiet gasp escaped her lips when she saw the slick string of arousal that followed her index finger.

“I love you…” Patsy breathed out in awe.

“I love you more,” Delia smiled and wiped her fingers on the bathrobe that remained on the bed.

She crawled back up beside Patsy and laid down so they were sharing the pillow. They rested in silence, for a moment---while Patsy caught her breath---and they soaked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Though, Delia thought she needed a glass of water to quench her sudden thirst, and Patsy thought she would need another meal to feed her sudden need for sustenance.

“I’m going to light one,” Patsy warned, opting for the cigarette on the nightstand instead of a snack.

“I might take a few drags myself,” Delia mentioned, feeling suddenly inclined to have a smoke too. Her eyes followed Patsy and she watched her light a cigarette with her little silver lighter.

Cigarette smoke swirled in the air above them and Patsy took a whiff before handing the thin stick over to her lover.

“I think that was really good...” Delia mentioned as she took a drag, “considering it was our first.”

“I think it was excellent,” Patsy took the cigarette back and chuckled.

Delia glanced up at the ceiling and narrowed her eyes.

“I thought it would hurt more…” she thought out loud, unable to fathom how good she felt at the moment. There was no pain involved whatsoever.

“What?” Patsy wrinkled her nose in confusion.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Delia confessed. “You know, from the other girls who have… with men.”

“Oh, right,” Patsy said, still in a bit of a daze. “I’ve heard stories like that too. But I would never hurt you,” she promised.

“I know that,” Delia smiled and reached for her lover’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Good,” Patsy reached over and placed the cigarette on an ashtray. “Do you want to do it again?” she asked, hopefully.

“Again?” Delia began to laugh.

“One for the road?” Patsy smiled, knowing they would not have another chance to be alone, and unrestricted, like this when they return to Nonnatus.

Delia grinned mischievously and took her lover into her arms, “Make it two.”

000

The next couple of days of their holiday flew by, and by the end of their last day in Paris, both were ready to return home. They would miss the city of love and romance, but mostly, they would miss spending so much time together. But, even in the midst of their honeymoon-like holiday, Patsy and Delia looked forward to the work ahead of them. Patsy was excited to get her hands back into midwifery, and Delia was eager to return to her revisions and training.

They were greeted with opened arms, and they expected nothing less than a warm welcome from the residents of Nonnatus house. They had evening tea, and shared their stories, and once the tales and laughter died down, Patsy and Delia retreated to their separate rooms, on opposite ends of the convent.

The next morning, Delia decided to visit her lover, only to find her in her room, with her belongings scattered all over the bed and carpet.

“Have you lost something, Pats?” Delia asked softly.

“Do you remember what I did with that picture of us?” Patsy groaned and rummaged through the contents of her suitcase again.

Delia had almost forgotten about the picture.

“Is it not in your tote bag?” she wondered, recalling the last time she saw it.

“No,” Patsy huffed in frustration, “I’ve looked everywhere! I’m convinced the wind picked it up and blew it into the Canal Saint-Martin.”

“I’m sure it will turn up,” Delia hoped, anyway.

“I don’t think so, Deels…” Patsy sat down in defeat, “I’m the one who didn’t secure it in my tote. I should have took better care of it.”

“Oh Pats…” Delia sat beside her lover and placed a soft hand on her back.

“How could I be so incompetent as to lose our only photograph?”

“We have many pictures,” Delia soothed.

“But that was the only picture of the two of us…” Patsy sighed, “together.”

Delia took a deep breath and planted a soft kiss on her lover’s shoulder.

“There will be more pictures, Pats… our adventures have only begun.”

At the bookstore three hundred miles away, the owner was sweeping the floor when she noticed the white corner of what appeared to be a postcard, tucked under one of the shelves. She picked up the item and smiled when she saw that it was a photo, a photo of two women she immediately recognized. Without breaking her eyes off the big smiles that brightened the picture, she walked towards the cash register and carefully placed it in a box by the window, full of items lost and found in the old book store. Silently, she hoped it wouldn’t have to wait too long for its rightful owners to come back for it.

The photo remained in the shop for a few years, and over time, the image of the two women began to fade—-but the events of that magical day lived on as memories. The black ink on back of the photo paper, though, remained. In black ink it still read: _Paris, 1962_.

FIN

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote Trixie as oblivious to Patsy/Delia's relationship, but I'm so certain she does know on the show! It can't just be Nurse Crane who knows. Anyways, I shall explore that route (Trixie in the know) in more fics to come. I'd love to write more Patsy/Delia interacting with Trixie and Nurse Crane. Stay tuned and thanks for reading :)


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